The Way You Break

The Way You Break Creatures of Scales & Savagery K.J. Jackson Copyright © K.J. Jackson, 2023 This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any forms, or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author. This book and series are expanded versions of original content taken from the Flame Moon series, copyright 2012-2022. First Edition: April 2023 ISBN: 978-1-940149-80-6 http://www.kjjackson.com ~ I found you and you found me—let’s not lose each other! Be sure to sign up for my VIP List for news of my next releases, sales and freebies. ~ Don’t miss my other books Fantasy Romance Creatures of Scales & Savagery The Way You Break Tear the World Down Heathens in the Shadows A Dynasty of Death ~ Historical Romance If you haven’t already, be sure to check out my historical romances—each is a stand-alone story and they can be read in any order (here they are in order of publication and series): Hold Your Breath Stone Devil Duke, currently free! Unmasking the Marquess My Captain, My Earl Lords of Fate Worth of a Duke Earl of Destiny Marquess of Fortune Lords of Action Vow Promise Oath Revelry’s Tempest Of Valor & Vice Of Sin & SanctuaryOf Risk & Redemption To Capture a Rogue, A Logan’s Legends Novella To Capture a Warrior, A Logan’s Legends Novella The Devil in the Duke Valor of Vinehill The Iron Earl The Wolf Duke The Steel Rogue The Christmas Countess Box of Draupnir The Heart of an Earl The Blood of a Baron The Soul of a Rogue Exile Exiled Duke Wicked Exile Dangerous Exile Guardians of the Bones Discreet Destruction Shadows of Scandal A Savage Deception Wicked Reckoning – For my favorite Ks Contents { Prologue } { Chapter 1 } { Chapter 2 } { Chapter 3 } { Chapter 4 } { Chapter 5 } { Chapter 6 } { Chapter 7 } { Chapter 8 } { Chapter 9 } { Chapter 10 } { Chapter 11 } { Chapter 12 } { Chapter 13 } { Chapter 14 } { Chapter 15 } { Chapter 16 } { Chapter 17 } { Chapter 18 } { Chapter 19 } { Chapter 20 } { Chapter 21 } { Chapter 22 } { Chapter 23 } { Chapter 24 } { Chapter 25 } { Chapter 26 } { Chapter 27 } { Chapter 28 } { Chapter 29 } { Chapter 30 } { Chapter 31 } { Chapter 32 } { Chapter 33 } { Chapter 34 } { Chapter 35 } { Chapter 36 } { Chapter 37 } { Chapter 38 } { Prologue } ~ Aiden ~ My thumb pressed hard on the pin, puncturing the picture, marrying it to the wall behind. A neat hole in the exact top center of the photo, right above the haggard old man triumphantly holding aloft a chunk of the wall. A chunk of broken cement that, effectively, told the world the Cold War was over. I was done. This was the last of it. I was done with more than a hundred years of war. Of killing. Of hunting. Of not knowing where I was sleeping, or where I was waking up. Of constantly questioning what side of right I was balanced on. Of time moving so fast. A new century was racing at me, and I had only just gotten used to the current one. I was always moving, always needed somewhere. But it was time to quit. Charlotte needed me here. And I needed it. Needed to stop, if only for a while. Who I had been for the last hundred years was not who I wanted to be for the next hundred. I needed that to happen, and this was the start. I took one step back from the wall, scanning the captured moments. Neat rows and columns of photos, encapsulating the sins of the past, stared at me. The pictures taken, some by me, some by Triaten at my ongoing request, and some gathered from various magazines and newspapers. I was going to have to figure out a way to live with the reality of what I’d done, no matter the reasons for doing so. Certain photos grabbed my attention, as they always did. The vacant dead eyes, half-rolled into sockets. Limbless bodies. The mutilation a single swipe of my blade could cause. There was nothing to do but face it all now, the photos. I wasn’t going to forget. The one thing I knew was that I wasn’t going to give myself a pass on the past. On all that I had wrought. The elders had not taken the news of their best warrior going into retirement well. I hadn’t given them much notice, but they would make do. There were others who could take my place—no matter if it took several working together to fill my spot. The elders, of course, had screamed and raged and threatened, but it didn’t make a difference. I was done, at least for now. They had to be satisfied with the fact that I hadn’t fully closed that door. If I was truly needed, I’d be available. But I had made it clear that I would be the one deciding what “need” was. No one would be deciding for me. Not anymore. Without conscious thought, my finger lifted to trail along the edge of the picture of the ragged man on top of the Berlin Wall. A lifeline for my conscience. And there were others—similar photos scattered throughout the montage on my wall of death and destruction, though I rarely focused on them. They were there, also courtesy of Triaten. Photos of a family reunited. A young couple